Angels Don't Cry Read online

  She felt a spurt of anger as the faces swam before her. Riverside Development had pitted friend against friend, neighbor against neighbor. Their promises had ruthlessly exposed the ugly, greedy side of the community—so long marked by the timeless glide of the river, the sweet perfume of flowers, the indolent heat of long, summer days.

  That picture had been a graphic reminder to Ann of all that she hated about Riverside Development’s plans, and the positive feelings she’d had for Drew that afternoon had all dissolved like a puff of smoke in a windstorm.

  Even though she kept her eyes carefully averted, she knew that he was watching her from his side of the tiny stage. Her sensitivity to him was an irritant because try as she might, she couldn’t keep her glance from straying in that direction.

  He was wearing jeans again tonight, trying to look like one of the boys, Ann thought, her annoyance mounting. Like an ordinary guy.

  But ordinary was hardly an adjective that applied. The jeans fit his lean frame like a second skin, and the dark blue polo shirt hugged the muscles of his chest and arms, boldly proclaiming his masculinity.

  He caught her eye and smiled, and then he winked, as though they were sharing some intimate secret the rest of the world couldn’t know. Without smiling, she turned away.

  Mayor Sikes stepped to the podium and gave the microphone a sound thump, which promptly rewarded the crowd with an amplified, ear-splitting scream. The whole front row jumped in unison.

  “Let’s have a little order here so we can get started. Now, as most of you are aware, the tension in Crossfield lately has been about as thick as my late wife’s gravy. I’m mighty ashamed of the way a lot of us—myself included—have been acting since Riverside Development first came to town.

  “No one side is completely right or wrong. There’s always two ways of looking at a situation. That’s why I’ve asked both Drew Maitland and Ann Lowell to speak with us tonight. Their differing views on Riverside Development will perhaps give each side pause to think about the other, and maybe we can all come up with some sort of compromise. Ann?”

  Ann stood, sending the note cards lying in her lap flying. She stooped in dismay to gather them just as Drew leaned down to pick up the ones that had landed at his feet. He handed them to her, his fingers lightly brushing hers. For one brief moment she lingered, unable to break the connection as a current raced from his touch to hers.

  Reluctantly she turned away and stepped to the podium, still nervously shuffling through her cards. Toward the back of the crowd, someone let loose with a loud wolf whistle, making Ann’s fingers fumble even more.

  Finally abandoning her notes, she looked up, letting her gaze once again seek all the familiar faces. And suddenly she knew exactly what to say.

  She cleared her throat and bent slightly toward the microphone. Her voice came out clear and strong, and even to her own ears, it held the ring of sincerity. “They say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. As you all know, I’ve been to the other side, and all I can say is that I couldn’t wait to get back home.”

  She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “I lived in the city for eight years, and while I realize Crossfield will never be a city the magnitude of Los Angeles or New York or Dallas, the plans Riverside Development have for our town will alter it drastically and irrevocably.”

  She spoke more quickly, gaining confidence with her convictions. She talked about the loneliness and isolation of living in a city of strangers and how she’d lived next door to a family for five years without ever having known their names.

  She talked about the absence of community and civic pride, and she talked about coming home after having been gone for eight years and being welcomed back with open arms.

  She talked about the support she’d been given when she lost her father and her sister, about friends and neighbors and even acquaintances rallying around her for no other reason than to simply be there if she needed them.

  She talked about sleeping at night with the river breeze blowing in through open doors and windows, of sitting outside watching the stars, of children playing safely in their own front yards.

  She talked about all the things that would be lost and all that would be gained by Riverside Development’s plans, but most of all she talked about the need for the community to pull together, not apart, no matter what happened.

  When she finished there was dead silence from the crowd, and then the applause thundered in her ears as she took her seat. She saw Donna Cooper smiling and waving at her while her husband, Wayne, flashed her an A-okay sign. A couple of rows back, Bernice Ballard dabbed at her eyes with a lace hanky while Wilma Gates patted her on the back.

  Ann felt near tears herself, and the glance she flashed Drew was anything but triumphant. If her words had touched the crowd, they’d also touched her own heart. She’d been completely open and honest about her feelings, and in so doing had revealed a great deal more about herself than she had ever intended.

  Drew’s blue gaze held hers for a long, soul-searching moment. When he smiled, it was a smile born of pride, a smile that seemed to be telling her, “See? I told you you could do it.” Then he rose slowly, and took his place at the podium.

  “I won’t pretend that’s not a hard act to follow,” he said with an ironic, thoroughly charming grin. Then he sobered as he scanned the crowd with his piercing blue eyes.

  “When I left Crossfield ten years ago, I took a lot of things with me. My love of history and tradition, instilled in me in junior high school by Ms. Viola Pickles. A sense of civic duty and pride in my community that I learned from Mayor Sikes. A keenly developed sense of right and wrong drummed into me at an early age by Sheriff Hayden.” He paused for a moment as soft laughter rippled through the crowd.

  “I took all that with me and I left nothing behind except a bad reputation. I’ve come back here after all these years wanting to change that reputation, and wanting to bring something back to the community that had given me so much. I think I can do that with the proposals Riverside Development has set forth.”

  He spoke then about the renovations along Riverside Drive, about the subdivisions planned for the outlying properties along the river, and the spacious park and community center Riverside planned to donate to the town. He talked on and on about new jobs and opportunities for the youth of Crossfield and Riverside’s commitment to the preservation of the community and the beauty of the river. But his last remarks, too, were addressed to the division of the town.

  “Riverside Development is deeply committed to this project and to this town. The strength of any community lies within its ability to pull together when the times get hard, to put our own needs aside when a neighbor requires a helping hand. These are trying times, my friends, and we need each other more now than ever. By working together, I know we can reach that compromise Mayor Sikes spoke of.”

  Once again the applause was loud and long, and Ann saw several people nodding their heads in agreement as they spoke to the person next to them.

  Mayor Sikes let the noise die a natural death, then he once again stood at the mike. “This is going to be the shortest speech I’ve ever made,” he told a disbelieving crowd. “Let’s eat!”

  Several cheers erupted amid much laughter as the assemblage began to break apart and form smaller clusters here and there along the way to the serving tables. As Ann made her way down the platform steps, a circle quickly formed around her as she was complimented and congratulated.

  “Your father would have been so proud,” Bernice sniffed, patting her hand affectionately.

  “You gave us all a lot to think about,” Wilma added. “Both you and Drew. Even in opposite corners, you two make quite a team.” Her eyes gleamed speculatively as she smiled warmly at Ann.

  “Nicely done, Ann,” Viola agreed, adjusting the black-rimmed glasses on her nose. “I did think you might have taken a little harder line, though, but all in all it was a very effective speech.”

  Ann f
elt Donna, who was standing next to her, poke her in the ribs, and Ann had to work very hard to keep a straight face while Viola added a few more suggestions. Finally Viola left to follow Bernice and Wilma to the barbecue lines, and Ann turned to face Donna.

  “Was I really all right?” she asked anxiously.

  “You were wonderful,” Donna told her sincerely. “There wasn’t a dry eye around there toward the end. People who have been at each other’s throats for weeks were passing each other tissues.”

  “I only hope that burst of goodwill lasts,” Ann said skeptically, scanning the shadowy grounds for Drew.

  She spotted him several feet away, surrounded by his own legion of supporters. Jack and Kelly were among the group around him, and Ann could see Kelly’s young face looking up at him, hanging onto his every word, much as she had once done. Ann felt a sharp bite of something she hesitated to put a name to because she hated to be reminded that she was only too capable of feeling jealousy.

  “Speaking of goodwill,” Donna was saying, “have you and Drew rescheduled your date yet?”

  “No.” Ann tried to shrug indifferently, but knew it wasn’t very convincing. She gave up pretending. “I didn’t even know he was back in town until today.”

  “You mean he didn’t call you all week?” Donna asked in disappointment.

  “No.” Her tone was casual and unconcerned, but Ann couldn’t help the niggling little worry that Drew might have someone special in his life in Dallas, someone who made it easy for him to forget about her.

  While they stood talking, the band took the stage and struck up their own rendition of `Satisfaction.’ The Stones might have done it better, Ann decided, but certainly not more enthusiastically. She felt herself responding to the music when Jack grabbed her around the waist and pulled her toward the foot of the bandstand, where several couples were already dancing.

  “Why aren’t you picking on Kelly?” Ann protested, laughing.

  “She’s not speaking to me,” Jack told her casually, holding a beer in one hand while he whirled her around with the other.

  “Since when? You two were getting along great earlier.”

  “Since she saw Drew tonight. You better watch out, cuz. She’s liable to give you a run for your money. Or try to.” Again Jack spun her, a little more vigorously this time.

  Ann stopped. “What do you mean?”

  Jack’s movements halted, too, as he stared down at her. “I mean Kelly’s falling all over him, or haven’t you noticed? For some reason, she seems to go for those ambitious, city types.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ann said with a frown. “Kelly’s crazy about you.”

  “Kelly’s crazy about money, which I don’t happen to have too much of at the moment.”

  “You mean since you bought that expensive car,” Ann said with a faint note of censure in her tone. “Was that just to impress Kelly?”

  Jack smiled but his eyes no longer held the old sparkle. “Maybe it was to impress myself. Hell, it worked for a while,” he said with a sudden grin. “Come on, Ann. Cheer up. You always could bring a party down faster than anyone I ever knew.”

  “Thank you so much,” she replied testily.

  And then, as if on cue, the band finished the rock and roll number and started up an old love song. As the singer belted out the words to “Crazy,” Jack muttered, “Oh, hell,” and stomped off into the shadows.

  Drew stood talking and laughing with the group of people still clustered around him, but his eyes were trained on the dance floor, where someone had just stepped forward and claimed Ann for the dance. Her long, slender legs—sleekly enhanced by white shorts—moved gracefully in time to the music.

  Drew felt himself strangely envious of that man’s arms encircling Ann’s slender waist, his hands hiding beneath the thick, strands of her glorious hair.

  Drew longed to hold her himself, to plunge his fingers into those blazing curls, to kiss her full, sexy lips until they were both breathless. He longed to trace her alluring curves with his hands and feel the satiny warmth of her skin against his. He released a low, frustrated groan that brought a curious glance or two from the persons standing next to him.

  The song ended and as everyone moved to the sidelines, the circle around Drew and the one that had surrounded Ann somehow merged. Drew found himself standing directly across from her.

  Wayne Cooper playfully patted the top of Ann’s head. “Ann looked pretty good up there tonight, didn’t she, Drew?”

  “Breathtaking.”

  The conversation around them came to an abrupt halt as Drew realized too late he’d spoken his thoughts aloud, but he decided he didn’t much care. The excitement had been building since this afternoon when he had seen her standing at the bottom of the bleachers. He’d freely acknowledged his desire for her then, and she’d answered him, whether she realized it or not. He watched with growing amusement as a slow, apricot stain spread across her cheeks.

  The silence stretched for a moment longer before Donna said hastily, “Wayne, why don’t you get Ann something to drink. She looks thirsty.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Even Wayne seemed taken aback by the rather obvious undercurrents flowing between Ann and Drew. He returned with several cold beers and handed them all around. Ann took a grateful sip, unsettled by Drew’s bold appraisal of her face, especially her mouth.

  He was different tonight, she thought nervously. More obvious. More daring. More dangerous.

  Somehow he’d maneuvered the small group so that he was standing next to her. His voice was low and intimate as he said in mock surprise, “Angel Lowell drinking beer? I never thought I’d see that. In fact, I don’t believe I ever saw you drink anything stronger than a Coke.”

  “You haven’t seen me do a lot of things,” Ann assured him coolly.

  “You’re right about that, but I’m finding that I’d sure like to.”

  His open aggressiveness in the middle of a crowd shocked her and unnerved her even more. She tried to think of a chilling reply but not one single word came to mind. All she could do was stand there and stare at him, feeling the impact of his blatant sexuality.

  What it meant, she didn’t know; where it would lead, she didn’t dare speculate. But for now, there was no denying that something special was happening between them. Sparks. Electricity. Desire. Whatever it was, Ann’s stomach fluttered as if a thousand butterflies had taken up residence.

  “Oh, come on, Drew, you’ve seen Ann drink before,” Wayne protested boisterously. “Remember prom night? The spiked punch?”

  “Wayne,” Donna warned.

  “No, really. I remember distinctly. She practically had to be carried out of the place.”

  “That was Aiden,” Ann said quietly.

  Drew’s gaze clung to hers and something flickered in those blue depths, something that seemed almost a plea. Don’t. Don’t let Aiden in on this moment. Or had that silent appeal sprang from her own mind?

  “Take your foot out of your mouth, Wayne, so you can dance with me,” Donna scolded as she pulled her husband, rather roughly, toward the other dancers.

  The haunting strands of “Only You” floated softly through the park, wrapping around Ann’s senses like a lover’s caress. Like Drew’s caress, she thought with a strange ache deep inside her.

  Jack and Kelly were already dancing, obviously having made up, as their bodies pressed tightly together and they barely swayed to the slow, sensuous beat. Their movements, though slight, were brazenly suggestive, leaving no room to speculate how their evening would end. Watching them, Ann became even more acutely aware of the man standing next to her.

  Across the river the first set of fireworks shot high into the sky, clustering into red and blue and white sparks as they exploded with a boom. The crowd oohed and aahed as they began moving toward the bank. Ann started forward with them, but Drew caught her arm.

  “I know where there’s a better view.” Not waiting for her refusal, he led her away from the crowd and through a thi
ck stand of trees, where the riverbanks rose to a steep bluff on either side. They stood above the crowd, alone, as the night sky came alive with dazzling light.

  From their vantage it seemed that the splashes of fire and color were directly above them, enveloping them in breathtaking brilliance, showering them with drops of light. Drew stood behind her, not touching her and yet touching her in a way that was frighteningly sensuous. Then his arms slipped around her waist, holding her close, and Ann let him, because just for a moment, they were lost and alone in a glorious universe.

  And all too quickly it came to an end.

  The sound of thunder died away with one last echo, the night sky calmed and darkened. But Drew did not take away his arms. He tightened them, in fact, pulling her against him as he buried his face in her hair.

  She resisted, tried to pull away, but he held her. “Time to pay up, Angel,” he whispered into her ear.

  Anticipation tightened the breath in her throat. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

  “After the game today. You wanted me to kiss you then, didn’t you? I could see it in your eyes.”

  “No! How dare you—”

  “Yes, I dare,” he murmured, parting her hair and pressing his lips against the back of her neck. “I’ve dared to admit what you keep trying to deny.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said breathlessly, tipping her head slightly forward as his lips slid along her nape.

  “Then let me spell it out for you.” His voice thrummed in her ear, sending hot shivers along her skin. “I still want you. Just as much as I ever did. Maybe more.”

  He turned her in his arms, and her eyes were drawn immediately to his. In the bold moonlight she could see his face clearly and the heat in his blue gaze stopped her heart. The whole world stopped, and then started again, in slow motion this time, each passing moment excruciatingly prolonged and intense. But Ann did not move away.

  He lowered his head, and his mouth touched hers, tenderly, cautiously. Ann’s lips trembled beneath his. He pulled back for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes, and she returned his stare, trapped by what she saw. All of the lost years, all the loneliness and pain and longing, all of her unshed tears were there in Drew’s eyes. But it was only a glance, a very brief impression, because in an instant his mouth locked onto hers once more in an almost desperate hunger.